More than A Moment
We've all felt it. For ourselves, for our spouses, for our country, for our children, for our football team. The moments swell into a palpitating rush and then somehow fade into 'Remember When's'. I watched my 54 year old mother walk across the stage at BYU-Idaho two weeks ago and receive her diploma. That kind of pride you can't forget.
A mother's struggle and sacrifice doesn't fade into future recollections. It shows in every laugh line and worry line in her face. A decade of worry, sacrifice, hiatus, achievement, success, failure, commitment and recommitment deserves more than a few handshakes and a stroll across a raised platform. One moment of acknowlegement hardly tells the story of how she obtained it. But we knew. Her 18 grandkids knew. Her professors knew, as manifested in their tears and well wishes.
I remember passing her in the hallway 10 years ago at what was then Ricks College. It was the ending of an era for me and just the beginning for her. She was excited; I was exhausted. I remember watching her drop it all when the demands of motherhood outweighed everything else, wondering if she would ever be able to return. I watched her labor to find time, her way, her passion. She struggled. She survived. 
I suppose she exited the stage with something much more than a certificate of achievement. In her hand she held a monument to 10 years of trying Faith. She exited the stage as someone completely different. She is accomplished. She is confident. She is determined. She is smart. She is capable. She is my mother. 
A mother's struggle and sacrifice doesn't fade into future recollections. It shows in every laugh line and worry line in her face. A decade of worry, sacrifice, hiatus, achievement, success, failure, commitment and recommitment deserves more than a few handshakes and a stroll across a raised platform. One moment of acknowlegement hardly tells the story of how she obtained it. But we knew. Her 18 grandkids knew. Her professors knew, as manifested in their tears and well wishes. I remember passing her in the hallway 10 years ago at what was then Ricks College. It was the ending of an era for me and just the beginning for her. She was excited; I was exhausted. I remember watching her drop it all when the demands of motherhood outweighed everything else, wondering if she would ever be able to return. I watched her labor to find time, her way, her passion. She struggled. She survived. I suppose she exited the stage with something much more than a certificate of achievement. In her hand she held a monument to 10 years of trying Faith. She exited the stage as someone completely different. She is accomplished. She is confident. She is determined. She is smart. She is capable. She is my mother. I love you Mom. Way to Endure. 
The Easter Bunny made a generous drop of chocolate, jelly beans and this stuff:
Luke: Elmo phone
Last year we were rearranging the office into what would soon be Luke's new bedroom. Max was rarely ever in that room and we kept this photo on the bookshelf. He was helping us (as far as 2 year olds can help) and he pulled that photo off the bookshelf and said "Dad, Jesus in there." Ryan looked at me and said "Did you teach him that?" I replied that I had not.
We were just stunned. We later learned that in his nursery class they had been speaking of the resurrection. We were so touched, and still quite shocked that he could make the connection between coloring pages from nursery and a real life photo of the tomb.
Dying the eggs was great fun, the egg hunt was exciting, and finding the boys new church clothes for Easter is always joyful. But nothing compared to getting to teach our son about the Savior's love and sacrifice for us. And then to top it all off, we were able to spend the weekend watching Conference and feeling inspired to be better parents to our kids. 
Aunt Jolea of course had a BatMan costume and for a brief 5 days, we were relieved of the land of Scooby Doo and enjoyed the world of Super Heroes.
Max loved the party. Due to inclement whether, the party was postponed. BatMan had to wait for many 'tomorrows' but the big day finally arrived.
He loved meeting up with Spiderman (aka, Sammy, the Bday boy) and was especially pleased with the giant Spidey bounce house.
I was especially pleased with the Seminario's creative costumes, like Miranda Seminario, as "Super CTR Girl".
Max has asked me at least 5 times when we are going back to Sammy's house. I don't blame him. Who wouldn't want to be around this bunch?
